Memories
by Sibylle1
Summary: A teen-aged Adam's prank causes not only him to think things over.


**Memories**

Hoss raised his glass and watched with a mixture of disbelief and horror what was going on with his milk. It had suddenly become light blue and foamed and bubbled in his glass. The eight year old was dumbfounded. "Pa?" he asked in a shaky voice.

The milk started to foam over the rim and run down the outside. Ben stared at the glass and even Marie, who was feeding Little Joe in his high chair, turned around when the little boy leaned to his left to peer around her. He clapped his hands with excitement, pointed at the foaming milk, and exclaimed happily, "Bubble, bubble!" Adam was smirking at Hoss's horror-struck expression.

Hoss set his glass down almost as abruptly as if it had bitten him. The impact with the table caused the blue liquid to bubble even more vigorously as it splashed up and out from the glass to land on Hoss's plate of scrambled eggs. Still foaming like a witch's brew, a wave of milk flooded across the table.

"Mon dieu, what a mess!" After the first shock Marie snatched up the bread basket standing in the blue milk. It was now vehemently dripping with the suspect liquid. "Hoss, run quickly to the kitchen and get a rag!" With her free hand she grabbed the milk glass and moved it to her empty plate, even though there wasn't enough left in the glass to matter. "The beautiful croissants are all depraves. Inedible now! Only for throwing away," Marie stated angrily, looking at the sodden pastry. "How annoying, all the work I had ce matin with them was for nothing! Quelle barbe!"

Hoss came back with the rag and Marie began to wipe the table. Ben hadn't moved during the entire bustle; instead he had scrutinized his eldest son across the dining table with a suspicious frown. Adam's amusement seemed to have decreased somewhat now that he was helping move the dishes to a dry place.

"Adam!" Ben's tone of voice made it very clear that he didn't like what had just happened.

The fourteen-year-old looked up, the smile draining from his face.

"Are you responsible for this mess?"

"Uh, sir, for the foaming, yes, but not that Hoss spilled it," he said, and wished at once he had bit back his smart answer when he saw his father's face.

"And you're even putting the blame on your little brother? It´s unbelievable! What did you do to the milk?" Ben's voice had reached the volume that meant he'd gone from annoyed to angry.

Little Joe, startled by the sudden change in mood, stretched out his arms towards his mother. Marie lifted him from the high chair and hugged him close, fervently hoping this wouldn't become yet another confrontation between her husband and her oldest stepson.

"We did some experiments in school and then ... then I took a little bit and put it in Hoss's milk ... It was just a little prank, Pa. What's so wrong with that?" Adam answered defiantly. Marie gasped; this was clearly the wrong attitude to take with Ben.

"Do you think food is meant for experiments or silly pranks? That it should be wasted and spoiled?" Ben thundered. "Do you think there's nothing wrong with having our Sunday breakfast end like this! With having the good things Marie baked for us be thrown away? I think you've lost track of what is important and what's not." It only angered him further that while Adam had gone pale, the boy stared directly back. "Because you obviously didn't appreciate the food that you're given every day, you'll get nothing today that's not absolutely necessary: no roast and no dessert for dinner and for supper only dry bread. Maybe that will make you reconsider the value of food! Now go out and hitch up the team so we won't be late for church." Ben gestured to show Adam that the 'conversation' was over. "And you, Hoss, may have my eggs, since it's your brother's fault yours are inedible." Ben passed Hoss his plate, paying no more attention to his eldest son.

Not wanting to show how much his pride was damaged by having been scolded in front of his younger brothers, Adam bit his lower lip, stood silently and turned his back to the table with his family. He shut the door noisily, but not so hard that anyone could say he had slammed it. He might be offended and angry, but he wasn't suicidal.

…..

The service went off without any incidents or nuisances—not always the case for a family with three boys. After church Ben gave Hoss and Adam their weekly allowance and said they could meet their friends as usual in the hour and a half before the family returned home.

Adam hadn't spoken since breakfast and Marie was frustrated about the spoiled mood on what might be the last beautiful day of autumn. "Ben, must you be so strict with Adam? Can't you let him do foolish things sometimes? He's just a boy."

Ben looked at his wife disapprovingly. "They were your croissants and your work that he just had spoiled. You were mad at him too—why do you now pick at me?"

"Yes, of course I was upset, but it would have been enough to tell Adam that he had done wrong. He spoiled our breakfast with his silly experiment, c'est vrai, but your punishment will spoil two more meals and so the whole Sunday."

"I won't tolerate that a boy of mine waste food. That's not a matter of his making a quick apology, it's a principle! And if Adam dares to sulk and make our meals miserable, well..."

"With your threats you will lighten the mood without fail!" Marie retorted angrily. She knew to quarrel with her husband would do her no good but she was angry with Ben, who was sometimes so stubborn and such a stickler for principles, and so easily provoked by her teenaged stepson's cheeky remarks. She had planned to show her family what a good cook she was during the week Hop Sing wasn't there, because sometimes it gnawed at her pride as a housewife that Hop Sing was in charge of the kitchen. She had prepared some special treats for that Sunday which nobody would now appreciate.

Seeing the Devlins walking around the edge of the church, Marie forced a smile on her face and chirped sarcastically, "Excuse me Ben, but Sarah Devlin is just coming, I hope you don't mind if I want some pleasant talk also today." Without an answer she brusquely turned her back to her husband, skirts rustling. "Sarah, how cute your Mitch looks. What a nice new jacket he has." And the two women quickly struck up a vivid conversation about patterns, buttons and trimmings.

Ben, left standing alone, looked grimly after her. He wouldn't let anybody tell him how to raise his sons! He knew better and especially knew Adam better! Marie had no idea how stubborn the boy was. He needed to be firm so that Adam would think about his behaviour!

Ben shook his head slightly and looked around. Ronald Devlin was standing nearby, and they still had a lot to discuss about their next cattle drive. Why not now? he thought as he headed toward the other man.

…

Marie had left the roast in the warm oven so they could eat just half an hour after their return. Ben carved the roast as always, and put the slices on everybody's plate but Adam's. The boy didn't look up the entire meal. He ate silently with his eyes fixed on his plateful of potatoes and corn. Was he sulking, hurt, angry, or just trying to avoid trouble? Ben deliberated. Hard to say.

The dinner was a silent affair. Marie finally got up and brought in a big chocolate cake for dessert. If Ben had not been sitting across from Adam, he would have missed the involuntary sparkle in Adam's eyes at the sight of the cake followed by a lowering of his eyelids before he looked away.

Two seconds later Adam's face seemed completely composed and blank again as he asked if he might be excused.

"No, you stay until everyone has finished eating," Ben responded.

The boy nodded resignedly and then sat motionless as a statue. The air was so thick that you could cut it.

Why had he denied Adam's request? Ben wondered. Because he was annoyed by Marie, that was clear–but was there something else? The boy had asked politely; there was no reason to refuse. Somehow Adam's look at the cake had confused him.

"Do you want another piece of cake?" Marie asked her younger stepson.

"No thank you, Ma. I'm full," muttered Hoss.

Marie glanced accusingly at Ben, who was eating his cake absentmindedly, lost in thoughts and frowning, exactly as she had feared. Marie put her fork down on her plate by her half-eaten piece of cake and could have cried. Instead she turned to her baby and said, "Petit Joseph, come, we will now take a nap."

"No Ma, Joe no tired, no sleep," protested the small boy, and began to kick and squirm when Marie wanted to lift him out of the highchair.

"You can take your nap with us in our bed, Little Joe!" With this promise, she could actually lift her child without resistance.

Fine, thought Ben. Marie took the child into their bed at a time when they normally indulged in some undisturbed time together. Ben suppressed a disappointed sigh. Yes, the mood was spoiled indeed.

"Clear the table, boys, and no noisy games for the next hour," and Ben followed his wife upstairs.

….

Ben woke up with an unpleasant feeling of shame and for a moment wasn't sure where he was.

He had just been watching Adam as he longingly, but silently looked at a jar full of licorice. "Would you like some licorice?" the friendly sales clerk asked as she gave the four-year-old a strand of it. Ben felt again the shame that he had to rely on charity, that he couldn´t even buy his child some sweets.

It was only a dream, he realized with relief. He was lying in his own bed on his own ranch, and had just a bad dream during his nap, because he had fallen asleep in a bad mood. Next to him slept his youngest son, sucking his thumb contentedly. Was he dreaming of the chocolate cake, whose traces were still visible on his face? Marie had turned her back to them and seemed to be sound asleep. Ben lay back again.

Why had he dreamed of Adam's childhood? Suddenly he knew it was that glimpse of Adam's eyes at dinner that had led him to this dream. He remembered Adam´s eyes in his dream: the wistful look, the lighting up as he got what he had wanted. But what was so special about that? He could see the same joy in Hoss' eyes, even such longing glances.

However, those glances were always coupled by Hoss with direct questions, with bargaining and begging for money to buy candy. Had Adam ever begged for candy? Nowadays he couldn´t remember that Adam had ever asked for anything in town.

Even Little Joe begged, all little children do, he mused.

When had Adam stopped doing it? His dream was true-to-life; by the time Adam was four years old there were only silent glances. And when had even those longing glances ended? Only about a year later, when Adam was five. After that there was only a lowering of the eyelids, a looking away and a blank face when his father glanced in his direction. Yes, this behavior was typical for Adam until today.

Ben found himself too uneasy to bear lying in bed any longer, so he sat on the edge of the bed.

He had never thought about it, had never really noticed that Adam never asked for anything, but now he suddenly realized what his boy had done for him even as a small child: in order to shield his father from feeling guilty, to keep him from being embarrassed, Adam had kept his own desires secret! Ben stood up and walked to the window. He suddenly could feel a lump rising in his throat.

Ben pulled his boots vigorously on. "What is it, Benjamin?" his wife muttered sleepily.

"I have to leave again. I won't be back in time for supper, please don´t wait for me." Marie looked at him quizzically. "Please, Marie, let me! I forgot something, but don´t worry. I'll be back before Hoss´ bedtime."

….

"Pa?" Ben turned at the soft question while he was leading his damp horse to its stall. Looking around in the dim light of the barn he glimpsed Adam sitting on the feedbox, running some grains of oats from hand to hand. "What´s the matter?" Ben asked, wrapping the reins of his horse around a beam before he approached his son.

"I´m waiting for you, Pa. I´m sorry about the milk this morning. I wasn´t thinking."

" I understand, son."

"Pa, I was reminded of the time we …" and he opened his hand with the oats. "Back then I would have been really happy to have the milk. I realized it suddenly when I fed the horses," Adam said softly, his eyes still on the grains in his hand.

Ben saw again before him an almost inedible mush, full of husks and hulls, he'd once cooked up with water and a little salt from oats meant for their horse. Those oats were literally all they had left after the horse got a stone in its hoof and went lame, and he himself had run a fever for a week. They couldn't go on with their journey, he wasn't able to hunt, and their supplies had given out. They had lived on that oat mush for three days before reaching the next settlement. Since then they had never spoken about that time. He had hoped Adam had forgotten it because the boy was barely five years old then.

"I'm so glad, my son, we all have enough to eat now. May the Lord grant that it will continue so now and in the future." Ben put a hand on Adam´s shoulder, "I'm proud of you for really thinking about what you did and apologizing for it." On a sudden impulse he quickly bent and pressed a cautious kiss on the crown of his teenaged son. Adam immediately ran his fingers through his hair where the kiss had landed, but to Ben's joy he didn't protest.

"Adam, please, take care of my horse. I'll have a quick bite to eat, and then read Hoss his bedtime story. After that I'd like to talk to you, because I've been thinking, too, about our travelling time."

Adam's eyes were asking, "Are you still mad at me?"

"No, I'm not angry, son; not in the least," Ben stated in a low voice.

….

As Ben put his saddlebags and gunbelt on the sideboard and hung up his hat, he called out, "Marie, I'm back."

"I´m just bathing Joe, come into the kitchen."

Ben followed the voice. "Is that for me?" He pointed to a plate of cold meat, bread and butter. Marie nodded as she picked Joe out of the tub and wrapped him in a towel. "How was your supper?" Ben asked as he sat at the kitchen table and began to eat, "your roast is excellent by the way!"

"Thank you. Well, supper was better than dinner. Adam obeyed your order about the dry bread, but he spoke to us. Nevertheless, Ben, the bite did get stuck in the throat, even for Hoss. "

"I'm sorry, Marie, but I still think that I was right. In some way," Ben lowered his eyes and continued to eat, and Marie dressed Joe in a fresh nightshirt.

"Give your pa a kiss good night, Joe! Mama will take you upstairs and sing for you." Marie carried Joe over to Ben so the little boy could put his arms around Ben's neck. Joe hugged his father and gave him a wet kiss.

"Good night, Little Joe, sleep well!" Ben returned the kiss. "Where's Hoss?"

"He's washing and changing, he will come down when he's ready." And with that Marie was gone.

After Marie had left the kitchen, Ben stood up quickly and put some milk on the stove, before serving out four large pieces of Marie's cake. He poured the warm milk into a pair of mugs, added plenty of honey and stirred vigorously. Then he put everything on a tray and carried it to the table by the fireplace. Finally he poured two small glasses of brandy and poked up the fire.

At that moment Adam came into the house. His eyes fell on the well laid coffee table, and he turned quickly to the stairs. " I'll be in my room, Pa, if you still want to talk to me."

"Adam, I thought you might to join us and have a piece of cake while I read to Hoss," said Ben, while he continued fussing with the fire.

"Oh, ... sure I would like it, Pa," the boy answered hesitantly and came slowly towards the fireplace.

"Cake, Pa? There is cake for all of us as a bedtime treat!" a happy child's voice was heard and Hoss in his robe came thundering down the stairs. He plopped expectantly down on the settee, where he always sat when his father was reading. Adam took a seat in the blue chair.

"Enjoy it, boys! I'll just get the book."

Adam watched in surprise as his father, instead of selecting something from the bookshelf, took a book from his saddlebags.

"Pa, you've even put honey in the milk," noted Hoss sipping with satisfaction.

Again Ben received a surprised look from his eldest son. "Yes, Hoss, today I have thought a lot about the time when Adam and I, and then the three of us, were on the trail, and so I remembered how fond you were both of sweet milk." Ben nodded to Adam and the boy smiled lightly back. Both knew that it was not exactly an everyday drink back then, but a very special luxury.

Adam sipped cautiously at his hot milk, and Hoss chewed with full cheeks as Ben began to read, holding the book in a way no one else could see the title. It took Adam a few sentences to realize this had to be "Ivanhoe." He'd often heard about the novel and had wanted to read it for a long time. How could Pa have known that? And how could he have suddenly found a copy of the book? But even as these questions ran through his mind, Adam felt the same way a cat must feel when it begins to purr: sated, comfortable, and absolutely secure.

Ben glanced at Adam as he read and was glad that the surprise was a success.

Midway through Marie returned and settled next to her husband without interrupting him. She saw the empty plates and smiled.

After the first two chapters Ben stopped reading. "Did you like the story, Hoss?" he asked.

"Yes, Pa, this knight – I like him. Will you read some more tomorrow again, Pa?"

"Sure, I will, Hoss. It gets dark earlier these days, maybe we might sit all together in the evenings and read. What do you think, Adam?" Ben held his breath hoping that his eldest son would agree, since a fourteen-year-old might think it childish to be read to. But Adam nodded.

Marie accompanied Hoss upstairs after the boy had said his goodnights.

"Thanks, Pa," mumbled Adam when the others were out of earshot.

"You're welcome, son! Now please bring me the two parcels in my left saddlebag"

"Sure, Pa." Adam unpacked a big paper bag with a twisted neck, and a smaller rectangular parcel and carried them over to the table in front of the fireplace.

"They are for you," Ben stated.

Adam stared wide eyed at his father with a nearly horrified expression. "For what, Pa? It´s not my birthday," he stammered.

"It´s for all the birthdays I didn't have a gift for you, and for all the times you passed something up without complaining even as a small child."

"I always had everything I really wanted, Pa."

"But not everything I wanted you to have, Adam. Compared with other children–even your brothers–you missed out on a lot. And later...well, I...I think I owe you something."

Adam tried to change the subject, "It´s Sunday, Pa, how could you get gifts?"

"When it´s important you can find ways. And it was important to me. I was in more need to think over my behavior than you."

Still hesitantly Adam opened the big bag and looked inside, "Pa, that´s at least a pound of licorice! And except for you and me nobody else likes it!"

"Well, yes, so you can sometimes give me a piece of it," Ben said with a big grin. Adam took a piece, and offered his father one also. Both sucked with great gusto.

Adam was reaching for another piece when his father asked, "Why don´t you open the other parcel?"

Almost shyly Adam fumbled with the knots and then cautiously unwrapped a flat wooden box. He opened the lid slowly …. .

"Thank you, Pa!" he blurted out. "These tools … I've been wishing for them so badly!" Adam looked with delight at the set of polished instruments made for precise drafting, "How could you know …."

"Maybe I know you a bit after all, my son. And I have my informants," Ben smiled proudly. "But for the future, if you wish something, please just tell me! It would be easier for both of us."

Adam had rose and came to his father who opened his arms. Both hugged each other for a long while. Marie stood on the landing, watching with a thoughtful smile. It seemed her husband had managed to lighten the mood after all.


End file.
